Twenty-Four
A/N: I know it's been forever since I updated, but I blame school for this one. The end of the year finally came and I had finals and such. Sorry, real life comes before my fanfiction, even if I wish it didn't. The good news is that it's now summer and I plan on finishing this story before I start again in August. Due to popular demand, Ginny will be pregnant, though it was still a toss-up to make up my own mind.
Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter or any characters included.
-:-
July 31, 2004
"What are you humming?" His wife's voice startles him from his drifting thoughts. He pauses, his right arm still above his head as he rolls the light blue paint across the nursery walls. He turns to face her, and notices how her eyes twinkle when she spots the paint smear above his left eyebrow.
He has to think about her question for a moment, going over the simple melody inside his head. After a moment he simply shrugs, playing for nonchalant even though it kind of bothers him that he can't remember what song it is. "I don't know," he murmurs.
She tilts her head and regards him from where she sits in an old rocking chair across the room, her arms resting on her seven-month baby belly. Her rose-red hair flutters as a soft, warm breeze blows through the open window, alleviating some of the unusually warm summer heat. "Pity," she sighs. "I like it; it's soft like a lullaby."
The word stirs something in his mind, a long-forgotten memory he hadn't realized he had.
The pictures his mind conjures for him are hazy and faltering, and this makes sense after he recognizes the face peering at him from a memory. Auburn hair and almond-shaped green eyes, flushed cheeks and warm laughter. He can hear the faint echo of his mum's soft voice singing the lullaby, though he can't hear the words, only sees the shape of her lips moving.
He suddenly finds it very hard to breathe as tears sting his eyes. He doesn't know very much about his parents, but he has never been able to quench his desire to know everything he never can. So, whenever he gets flashes of remembrance like his mum's letter or the picture of them dancing, it's like a punch in the gut and a warm hug at the same time.
He closes his eyes tightly, trying to level his breathing. He stiffens instinctively when his wife's arms wrap around him, but then relaxes into her embrace. He buries his face into her sweet-smelling hair and feels a weight lift off of his shoulders. It's wonderful to have someone to hold him when he's like this. Normally she would snuggle against his chest and let him draw comfort in her warmth, but that became impossible after her stomach rounded out. So now she just stands next to him and stretches her arms around his torso.
Gentle hands cup his face, forcing him to look into a pair of concerned brown eyes. He knows she's worried, and he feels somewhat guilty about adding stress to her and their baby. "Hey," she says lightly, "I thought I was supposed to be the one with mood swings?" Despite the light-hearted humor, he can hear the anxiety in her voice.
He smiles at her, taking her hand and threading their fingers together. "I'm alright. I just wasn't expecting that to hit me so hard," he explains, absently playing with a lock of her hair with his free hand.
She just smiles, knowing without asking that something reminded him of the past. He's moving forward, on to the life he's always dreamed of, but there are the harder days. The road to recovery is not without speed bumps.
"So I've been thinking," he says suddenly, "that we need to pick out a name for the baby."
He can tell she notices the abrupt subject change, but she lets it slide knowing that if he wants to talk about it, he will. "Do we? I thought we were going to name him Baby Boy Potter!" She teases.
He rolls his eyes and laughs. "Yeah, that'll look great on the Potter family tree! 'Baby Boy Potter, firstborn son of Harry and Ginny Potter," he adds.
When they'd moved in a few years ago, he had added a portrait of the ancient lines of the Potter family, similar to the one in Grimmauld place but without the scorch marks. He's very proud of it, knowing his family history. It's something he'd always been interested in, but had finally pursued a few months before they got married. He even had Hermione charm it to add the name and portrait of a new Potter when they're born or marry into the family.
"Have you thought of any names?" Ginny asks.
He pauses hesitantly, running a hand through his black hair. "Well," he says softly, "I was thinking…..James. I've always wanted to name my son that. My dad gave up so much for me, and I want our son to be like him. Though hopefully, without the arrogance."
Ginny nods thoughtfully. "I think that's perfect. But what about a middle name?"
"Any preferences?"
"How about Sirius? He was you dad's best friend and just as brave as him."
Harry thinks for a moment. "James Sirius Potter," he rolls the name back and forth in his mind. A sudden burst of warmth spreads through his chest and down his arms and legs. "It's perfect."
Ginny grins. "I think he agrees. He just started kicking up a storm." She rubs her belly before taking his hand and placing it over the place where he can feel a little foot pushing against her skin.
"We can't wait to meet you James Sirius Potter."
A/N: So this chapter was a beast to write. Sorry it took so long. Hopefully it was worth it. Also, I've been toying with the idea of writing a spin-off one-shot about the day after James is born and Harry spends some bonding time with his son. It would probably be pretty touchy-feely. Any thoughts?
-HF
